


Fire Extinguishers and Finger Guns

by that_one_kid



Series: Fluffy multifandom minifics! [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Domestic Avengers, Dummy got a new fire extinguisher for his birthday, Fluff, Gen, JARVIS worries, Natasha Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 20:48:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4363646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_one_kid/pseuds/that_one_kid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha is having a bad day between the concussion and Barton being in medical. Tony is an ass, but a lovable one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire Extinguishers and Finger Guns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RiverSongFallenAngel221B](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverSongFallenAngel221B/gifts), [scifigrl47](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifigrl47/gifts).



> Thanks for the prompt, River. Thanks again to scifigrl47 for the amazing Toasterverse.

      Tony was in the workshop. This was not unusual. The fact that he was only wearing boxers and laughing maniacally was... also not particularly unusual. 

      "Sir?" Jarvis's voice was tinged with something daringly close to a resigned sigh. 

      "Hang on a second please, Jarvis," Steve said from where he was curled on the couch, hunched over his sketchbook with eraser dust in his hair. Tony held his pose for a few more seconds before collapsing with a sigh onto the couch, curling into the solid warmth of Steve's back. 

      "Steeeeeeve," he whined. "I wanna see the picture of me!" Steve scribbles some last touch onto the paper and thrust the sketch pad into Tony's hand. He was admiring it when Jarvis interrupted again, this time more urgently. 

      "Sir, I apologize for interrupting, but an urgent matter has come up." The AIs voice was concerned, and Tony sighed. 

      "Alright, hit me with it." 

      "Agent Romanov has returned from her latest mission," Jarvis said. "She appears to have a serious concussion, and she appears to be very intoxicated." 

      "Happens to the best of us," Tony said with sympathy. "Is she in danger, why is this urgent? Won't Clint take care of her?" 

      "No," said Steve suddenly, looking up from his phone. Tony read the text over his shoulder. 

           stuck in med

           nat was acting weird

           med didn't catch her in time 

           she's headed to avenger tower

           -Barton

      "Sir," Jarvis broke in again. "Agent Romanov is en route to your workshop. I cannot be sure, but she appears to be well armed." 

      "Shit." said Tony, rubbing his hands thoughtfully. "I wonder if that will-"

      "Let me handle this," Steve said, up and moving to the door. "I've talked to her when she's drunk before." He'd just gotten to the door when he heard a surprised yelp from Tony behind him. Natasha stood just out of his reach, her pistol aimed at Tony. 

      Tony was not good with people. But he recognized what Steve had overlooked about actually drunk-concussed-worried Natasha and not drunk-as-a-cover-Natasha because Steve had really not wanted to see it.        

      She was scared, the world wasn't making sense- and for her, that usually led to pain or being caught. She was almost child-like, cocking her head at Steve and rubbing her fingers along the gun grip. Steve tensed, and before he could do something stupid and hurt Natasha, Tony made a finger gun and pointed it at her. 

      "Bang!" he said, voice steady but a giggle was creeping in- nervousness from the gun pointed at his face. She looked at him, confused. Acting like a child, he thought again. 

      "No, no," Tony said, "I shot you, now you have to put the gun down and sit on the couch." As if that made sense. Natasha gave him a stare, and Steve got ready to tackle her, but she set her gun on the workbench and sat next to Tony on the couch, carefully an arms length from him. 

      "Now what?" she asked. 

      "Now help me shoot Steve," Tony said, and Steve yelped. 

      "What!" he cried, moving to dodge, but Natasha was faster, moving her fingers in a vague imitation of Tony's finger gun. 

      "Bang." she said with finality. 

      "Wow, look at my wrist." Tony started. "It's late, Nat. You should let me, um, walk you to your room." 

      "Why?" she asked suspiciously

      "To make sure... That... Uh, I haven't misplaced it." he said. 

      "... Sure," she said, and he very carefully didn't help her up but stood ready to catch her. They stumbled off and Steve was left in the workshop, blinking in shock. 

      "Jarvis?" Steve asked. "What... Was that gun loaded? What just  _happened_?" 

      "Yes. It was loaded. And it appears that sir handled the situation."

                          ~

      So from then on, when Clint went into medical, Tony would go drink with Natasha. Better than drinking alone, he'd tell her. Plus I get free booze. 

      And when she was too twitchy, when her memories threatened to overwhelm her or when Clint's condition would worsen and her face went tight and controlled, he'd point a finger gun and say "Bang!" And she would, inevitably, relax enough to call him an ass and give him a little sideways grin. 


End file.
